


A Game of Quidditch

by Rumpabumbum



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Feuds, Gen, Harry Potter AU, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpabumbum/pseuds/Rumpabumbum
Summary: Slytherins always rubbed Catelyn Stark the wrong way. Nothing could be worse than sitting between two of the most notorious Slytherin witches during eventful Quidditch championship to grace the pitches of Hogwarts in years.





	A Game of Quidditch

The idea of flying had never been one Catelyn was fond of. When she had gone to Hogwarts, the only class she had ever skipped was broom class. She could scarcely understand how three of her five children adored Quidditch. Robb was the the Captain in his seventh year and Arya was a third-year beater for Gryffindor. Although Sansa did not enjoy playing quidditch, she had a sudden pique in interest for the sport this year.

                Because today was Robb’s last game, she, Ned and Rickon had come to visit Hogwarts. Rickon was thrilled to visit the school he would be attending in a few short years. “I want to be Gryffindor like Robb and Sansa and Arya.”

                “Perhaps you will be. Or maybe you’ll be Ravenclaw like Bran and me or Hufflepuff like your father.” Catelyn had said.

                “As long as I’m not Slytherin- _blech_ ”.

                Sometimes she was still surprised by how the sorting hat had sorted her three oldest. Sure, she had always pegged Arya for Gryffindor, but Robb reminded her so much of Ned that she just assumed he would be Hufflepuff as well. And Sansa…she could have gone anywhere. Yet, the sorting hat was never wrong. _As long as they’re not Slytherin._

Gryffindor easily defeated Ravenclaw for the third-place game. Of course Catelyn wore her blue and bronze for her house, but she also wore Red and Gold for her children. After the match, she and Ned congratulated Robb. She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He blushed as Theon and Smalljon Umber sniggered. “Mooommm” he groaned.

                “You did wonderful Robb. I’m so proud of you,” she kissed his cheek again.

                “Okay. Okay mom, let go!” Robb whined as he finally got Catelyn to let go.

                “You can tell me all about the technicalities of your win back in the stands. Now come along. Where did your sister go?” Catelyn tugged on Robb’s hand.

                “Actually mom, I was thinking I could meet up with you and dad after the championship game. See, I was going to explain the game to Jeyne and-” Coos of “Oooohhhh Jeeeeyyynnneee” and a wolf whistle caused Robb to turn around and glare daggers at his best friends.

                “Say no more,” Catelyn told him. “We’ll be at the lower concourse on the North end of the field.”

                “Thanks mom,” Robb grinned. He ran off with his two friends.

                Catelyn turned to Ned. “Where did Arya go?”

                Ned stared at the players warming up on the quidditch pitch, clearly distracted.

                “Ned!” Catelyn called.

                “Huh?” Ned looked at her.

                “Where did Arya go?” she asked again.

                “She said something about getting a Hot Pie with someone named Gentry,” he said.

                “Well, I suppose it will just be the three of us then,” she said. Sometimes she missed when her kids didn’t have so many friends and actually wanted to sit with her.

                Ned taps his fingers together. “Actually, sweetheart, I was wondering if I could possibly go to the Hufflepuff section? You know, for old time sake?”

                Catelyn sighed. She couldn’t say know when he gave her his mopey puppy eyes. “Fine. Rickon do you want to go with me or your dad?”  
                “Dad! I want to see what the Hufflepuffs are like,” Rickon took off toward the Hufflepuff section, with Ned on his heels.

                By herself, Catelyn returned to the parent stand. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw parents that had filled the stand before had been replaced by mostly Slytherin and Hufflepuff parents. Catelyn scooted past a few legs and took her spot back. It was times like this she was glad her muggle-mum had taught her how to sew. She waved her wand and conjured a needle and scarf from her bag.

                “Oh, what tedious work. My brittle bones could hardly stand that. Don’t torture yourself, dear. Just watch the match,” muttered the old woman next to her.

                Catelyn turned her head. Someone that woman’s age should not be this high, in Catelyn’s opinion. Especially for a game where the action comes _to_ you.

                The woman wore a green and silver head piece with a dark green dress. On the front of her dress there was a Hufflepuff pendant with the face of a winking boy. He looked like someone Sansa would have a crush on.

                “Indeed, it shan’t be a long match. Not with my Joff as seeker.”

                Catelyn closed her eyes and took a breath. What had she done to the gods to deserve the punishment that was Cersei Lannister?

                The old woman next to her scoffed. “That weasel-child is a seeker? I thought he was bait for the Wildling beater.”

                Catelyn looked back at Cersei. Cersei scowled at the old woman. She looked at Catelyn and smiles as sweetly as saccharine. “First year on the team and he’s already got Slytherin in the championship. He’ll have Tommen trained to face him by next fall.”

                The image of young Tommen Baratheon playing quidditch didn’t match up in her head. Tommen, who much prefered animals and books to sports, didn't seem the competitive type. Nor did he seem talented enough to make the Hufflepuff team.

                Cersei grasped Catelyn’s shoulder. “How is Sansa? I’ve missed seeing her since she and Joff fell out.”

                “She’s good. Never been happier, actually,” Catelyn smiled.

                Cersei grimaced. “Wonderful.”

                “Catelyn Tully?” the old woman asked. The players rose on their brooms.

                “Stark now.” Catelyn clarified.

                “Ah yes, so I’ve heard. You may not remember me. I’m Olenna Tyrell. I taught Herbology while you were here.”

                Catelyn blinked. Of course she remembered Olenna Tyrell. Queen of Thorns. The only Herbology professor to ever come from Slytherin. She taught for all of four years before leaving for a successful stint in the Ministry of Magic. Back then, she had been slightly taller, darker of hair, and far less wrinkly.

                “Yes, I do remember you. You gave me the worst grade in my education,” Catelyn joked.

                Olenna smiled a toothy grin. “To be fair, you were one of my worst students. You could hardly tell Devil’s Snare from muggle Jimsonweed.”

                “Shush! They’re announcing Joffrey,” Cersei hushed them. Joffrey waved to the crowd. The brunette girl with her hair tied back in a ponytail rolled her eyes. Catelyn shared her sentiment.

                They announced the Hufflepuff seeker as Loras Tyrell. His curly brown locks and charming dimpled smile replicated the one on Olenna’s pendant.

                “Is he your grandson?” Catelyn asked.

                Olenna nodded as she clapped for him. “He may have inherited his father’s brains, but he took my ambition and his mother’s family’s athleticism. He may be the finest seeker this school has seen since Harry Potter.”

                Intrigued by the match, Catelyn set aside her sewing. The Slytherin team snatched the Quaffle and the game was on. Joffrey and Loras circled the pitch, looking for a glimpse of the snitch. Catelyn couldn’t imagine how they could see the tiny little bugger.

                Joffrey yelled a throng of trash talk. It seemed less like he was trying to find the snitch and more like he was trying, and failing, to intimidate Loras.

                A loud clang broke Catelyn’s concentration. “Ten points Slytherin!”

                “That’s my girl,” Olenna smirked.

                “Please. She wouldn’t have had the opportunity if not for the Targaryen girl,” Cersei sneers. Without knowing anything about the relationship between the women, Catelyn felt the tension. She wished she had joined Ned in the Hufflepuff stands.

                Having caught sight of the snitch, Loras zoomed underneath the Gryffindor stands. Joffrey followed. A moment later, the blur of the snitch darted out on the otherside. Only Joffrey emerged, wearing a malicious grin.

                “Your son better keep his head on a swivel,” Olenna warned, realizing Joffrey had done something to Loras.

                “Perhaps you overestimate your grandson’s skills,” Cersei said.

                Catelyn wondered if she could sneak out without causing notice.

                “Twenty points Slytherin!” the bell rang again. A blonde girl, a Targaryen clearly from her silver tinted hair, high-fived the brunette.

                “How many grandchildren do you have in this game?” Catelyn asked.

                “Two, but all of my grandchildren played quidditch. Garlan was quite the keeper when he was in Hufflepuff. Margaery is the only one to take my house though.”

                Loras emerged from under the stands, scowling in frustration. He surveyed the field. Joffrey was across the pitch chasing the snitch. Loras went into a dive, dipping beneath Catelyn's eye level.

                The bell clanged again “Hufflepuff ten points!”. A boy with a close crop of brown hair stared at the goal in astonishment. He turned to his house stand and raised his arms in triumph. Unfortunately for him, it was long enough for a Slytherin beater to catch on and knock him off his broom with a bludger.

                The Slytherin Keeper, a boy with long brown hair and an ugly scar on his face tossed the Quaffle to the Targaryen girl. She took off down the pitch and tossed the quaffle back and forth between herself and a stick of a boy Catelyn assumed was her brother. Young Renly Baratheon began swaying on his broom from the dizziness of it all. He stopped midflight which opened an easy goal for Slytherin.           The large blonde Hufflepuff keeper yelled something to Renly, then threw the Quaffle to him. Out of nowhere, Margaery intercepted it while simultaneously ducking a bludger and scored another goal.

                A red-haired girl cried out in frustration. She whacked her beater through the air. It took Catelyn a moment to recognize her as her nephew’s girlfriend. The position of beater seemed fitting for her.

                “She’s very talented. I think you’re the one underestimating players, Cersei,” Catelyn mused.

                Olenna grinned smugly. “It’s all hard work with that one. She didn’t come across as naturally as her brothers.”

                “That shows,” Cersei muttered, even though her argument had no merit.

                Between Margaery and the Targaryens, Slytherin scored eight more goals to Hufflepuff’s two. Joffrey, however, lost any sight of the snitch. Loras on the otherside of the pitch was inches from catching it.

                Joffrey snatched a beater club from one of his teammates and rifled a bludger toward the back of Loras’s head. The bludger connected with a sickening thump and Loras tumbled toward the ground.

                The crowd erupted with boos as the snitch flitted away. Joffrey smiled and leisurely took off for the snitch. Thoughtlessly, Margaery dived. She managed to catch her brother just before he hit the ground. He hauled himself onto her broom.

                “Joffrey has such wonderful aim,” Cersei admired.

                “That little monster could have killed my grandson,” Olenna fumed.

                Cersei shrugged. “These things are known to happen in quidditch.”

                “They wouldn’t be so common if foul bitch mothers such as yourself taught your children decency,” Olenna sat down, proud of being able to make Cersei’s jaw drop.

                It took time and concentration, but Margaery was able to bring her brother back to his broom. She earned herself an applause from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. In fact there was quite an uproar from Gryffindor, with cheers and chants for Margaery. Catelyn squinted. Sansa was at the center of the hubbub, clapping ecstatically.

                Hufflepuff scored a goal, and the yellow House cheered louder. Slytherins started booing. The boy with the scar yelled at Margaery, who shrugged, caught the Quaffle and took it down the pitch for another score.

                In the Keeper’s defense, she had no help. Aside from the red-head beater and Loras, all the other Hufflepuffs were awful. Catelyn was sure she could play better.

                The snitch fluttered in front of Catelyn’s face. She hadn’t expected it and flinched back, then screamed as it flew through her hair. A hand reached out and snatched in front of her face, barely missing her nose. The snitch flew from the stands and toward the ground. Loras Tyrell followed it, diving off his broom. He rolled and gracefully got to his feet, holding the snitch in victory.

                “Loras Tyrell has caught the Golden Snitch! Hufflepuff wins!” cried the announcer.

                The crowd roared. Cersei Lannister rolled her eyes and half-heartedly clapped her hands.

                The Hufflepuffs took a victory lap around the pitch. None of them noticed that Joffrey was in a shouting match with Loras. The boys yelled back and forth. Margaery and Daenerys landed beside them. Daenerys pushed Joffrey away while Margaery did the same with Loras. Margaery appeared to have him calm, guiding him toward Renly Baratheon, who had finally realized what was going on.

                Suddenly Joffrey spun around. He had his wand and shouted something. A force knocked Margaery onto her knees.

                Olenna was up faster than Catelyn could have imagined. She shoved her way out of the stands and hobbled to the pitch. Cersei, for her part, did not hide the satisfaction on her face. The Slytherin Keeper knocked Joffrey on the back of the head, before getting pushed back by the boy with the scar. Margaery was on the ground, heaving.

                Madam Westerling ran toward her as Daenerys and Loras picked her up. The crowd gasped at the blood spurting from Margaery’s mouth.

                Catelyn was startled to see Sansa running toward Margaery. Catelyn stood and pushed her way to the bottom of the stands. Madam Westerling ordered the students to clear space. Catelyn could see the reluctance on Sansa’s face, but she stepped back anyway. Madam Westerling whispered a spell and Margaery stopped heaving, but blood still dripped down her chin. She wobbled on her feet.

                A round, balding man in Hufflepuff yellow ran forward, followed closely by Olenna. He picked up Margaery and followed Madam Westerling.

                “It looks as though my son is the more skilled wizard after all,” Cersei laughed.

                Catelyn narrowed her eyes at the insufferable woman. “Your son could have gravely injured that poor girl and that’s what you have to say?”  
                Cersei shrugged. “It will teach her to keep her nose where it belongs.”

                Catelyn opened her mouth, but shut it as Sansa marched toward Joffrey. Catelyn didn’t know much of Sansa’s relationship with Joffrey, but from what she did know, Sansa loathed him. They had dated for a few months, and she never spoke of it afterward.

                Joffrey was laughing with some of his teammates and peers as Sansa came forward, flanked by the Targaryen girl. Daenerys. Catelyn finally recognized her as one of the girls at Sansa’s birthday party last year. Arya and Gendry ran over from the Hufflepuff stands. Sansa said something. Joffrey sneered and said something back.

                Arya yelled at him and he made another comment. Then Catelyn saw something she never expected from her oldest daughter. Sansa lunged forward and kneed Joffrey in the groin. The boy crumpled to the ground, holding his groin. The boy with the scar looked at Joffrey, then Sansa, then shrugged and walked away.

                “That little-” Cersei started raving.

                “Be very careful what you say next Cersei,” Catelyn warned, brandishing her wand.

                “You threaten me? A little homemaker such as yourself? Some manners you’ve taught those girls of yours. I’ll have your head for this. Wait until I talk to Robert. Believe me, you’ll be lucky to live in a shack once I’m finished. That girl of yours has some nerve. I’ll show her what happens when you mess with a Lannister! You punish her or your whole family will suffer! I-“

                _“Silencio_ ,” Catelyn murmured, ending Cersei’s rant. She fled down the stands to the pitch, which was in chaos. After an hour of searching, she found Ned, Robb, Arya, Rickon, and Bran, but there was no sign of Sansa.

                “She couldn’t have gone far,” Robb said.

                Rickon ran through a pair of legs back to his mother. “She was with you, right Arya?”

                “I lost her when Professor Baelish pulled me away,” Arya said.

                Catelyn looked around frantically. Aside from a few stray Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students and parents, the pitch had cleared.

                In the midst of the crowd, Daenerys came toward the Stark brood. “Hi Mrs. Stark, Mr. Stark. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

                “Hey Dany!” said Arya. She ran forward and gave the girl a hug that looked more like a tackle. “Have you seen Sansa? Great game by the way. You have to show me how you do that swerve.”

                Dany smiled at her. “Sure. Later okay.” She returned her attention to the Stark parents. “Sansa is in the Hospital Wing with Margaery. I can take you to her if you’d like.”

                “That would be wonderful, Daenerys. Thank you.” Catelyn took Ned’s hand and led her family behind Daenerys.

                On the way, Arya tried to convince Daenerys to teach her some Quidditch moves tonight. Apparently the girl’s boyfriend was in town and she wanted to see him.

                Arya pouted. “I guess I’ll have to hang out with Hot Pie instead,” she lamented.

                Daenerys patted her head, even though she was only a mere inch taller than Arya. “I suppose so.”

                “Did you know Sansa and Arya had friends in common?” Ned leaned in and whispered.

                “I didn’t even know Arya had friends that weren’t boys,” Catelyn whispered back.

                At last they made it to the hospital wing. Loras Tyrell was talking to his grandmother and Renly Baratheon in the corner with a bandage on his arm. Margaery Tyrell laid on her back in a bed. Sansa leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, holding Margaery’s hand. The man Catelyn assumed was Margaery’s father stood on the other side of the bed.

                “I’m going to have a stern word with that boy’s parents. How professors could let a boy be so wreckless with magic!” he fumed.

                “Don’t father. You’ll just make it worse.” Margaery grimaced as she pushed herself onto her elbows.

                Sansa pressed her lightly back into the mattress. “Don’t. Madam Westerling said you shouldn’t move until your ribs have fully healed.”

                The Starks stood watching this odd scene. Sansa had always been good at making friends, so it didn’t surprise her that she was able to befriend even a Slytherin, but this…seemed more than friendly.

                “Go. Take Loras to Hogsmeade and celebrate. He deserves it,” Margaery urged her father.

                Catelyn slowly stepped forward, getting a closer look at the spectacle.

                The aversion within Mr. Tyrell was clear. Finally he relented. He leaned down and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “ We shouldn’t be long. Is there anything you want while we’re in town?”

                Margaery looked up thoughtfully. “Some Butterbeer. And a pie.”

                Mr. Tyrell smiled. “Absolutely sweetheart.”  
                Margaery caught sight of Catelyn and smiled sweetly. No one else noticed, so she thanked her father.

                The Tyrell family and Renly scurried out. Renly smiled and waved at Ned as he walked past, but Catelyn was focused on her daughter, still oblivious to her family’s presence.

                After a moment of content silence, Margaery looked at Catelyn. “Sansa-”

                “I’m not going Margaery,” Sansa said. She brushed her thumb over the back of Margaery’s hand. Yes, there was something beyond friendship here.

                Catelyn looked back to Ned. “What should I do?” she mouthed.

                Ned shrugged.

                “But Sansa-” Margaery tried to sit up again and winced.

                Sansa held her back in the mattress. “You need to stop doing that. This is why I hate watching you play Quidditch. Especially with Joff.”

                “I got hurt because Joff has atrocious aim, not because I was playing Quidditch,” Margaery said.

                Sansa brushed her hair back. “So? You were hurt and there was nothing I could do about it. That was terrifying Margaery.”

                The same way Olenna had a witty response at the ready in the stands, Margaery opened her mouth with a prepared response. Apparently Sansa was just as prepared. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Margaery's. Margaery’s eyes fluttered shut. Her head relaxed into the pillow as Sansa kissed her softly.

                Now Catelyn really wasn’t sure what to do. Should she turn back and pretend she hadn’t seen anything? How would she and Ned approach this?

                Rickon made the decision for her. “EWWW!!!! SANSA HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!!!”

                Sansa jumped up. “Rickon?? Mum! Dad! Uhm, uhm…” She blushed deep red.

                “Your girlfriend is way out of your league Sansa!” Rickon yelled.

                “That is something we agree on,” Robb rubbed his brother’s fluffy head.

                “Okay, all of you out! Come on!” Ned herded his children together.

                “Aw! But I want to see Sansa get in trouble! I never get to see her get in trouble!” Arya whined as she walked away.

                Catelyn took Sansa’s abandoned chair. She tapped her fingers and waited for Sansa to talk. Sansa was too mortified to say anything.

                Margaery leaned forward and stretched out her hand. “Hello, I’m Margaery.” She winced again.

                “Will you stop that?” Sansa pinned her back against the bed.

                “It’s nice to meet you Margaery. I’m sorry about that incident after the match,” Catelyn said.

                She waved her off. “Grandmother always said Tyrells Grow Strong. Once I grow strong again, Joffrey will be the first one to taste my wrath.”

                That seemed more like a promise than a threat.

                “Mum, uh… Margaery and I are… seeing each other,” Sansa addressed to the floor.

                “Seeing each other?” Catelyn repeated.

                Margaery clenched Sansa’s hand. The gesture spurred Sansa on. “Yeah. Dating. Uhm. She- she’s my girlfriend.”

                Catelyn sat in silence for a moment. Never had she imagined one of her children would date a Slytherin. They were manipulative. Ambitious. Traits she couldn’t imagine Sansa ever wanting. Yet, Margaery looked at Sansa like she was the most important person to ever exist. This wasn’t a manipulative exercise.

                “Well, your father and I will be waiting outside once you’re done here with your girlfriend. Take your time, sweetheart, there’s no rush. I look forward to seeing you more Margaery.” She got up, smiled at the astonished look Sansa gave her and walked out.

                Not all Slytherins were bad. It appeared as though Sansa had found one of the best.


End file.
